


Hair of the Dog

by ladyvodka



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvodka/pseuds/ladyvodka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know how Cassandra said she had someone lined up to take Cullen's place in the Inquisition if he needed to step down? The time comes, only for him to be replaced by wandering drunkard Alistair. No one is impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/gifts).



Cullen slammed his hands down on either side of the war map. "Him?"

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Do you have an objection?"

"I have many! For one, he's obviously inebriated--"

At the head of the table, Alistair attempted to stifle a belch behind his fist. He failed, and a wave of Alvarado's Bathtub Boot Screech fumes wafted across the Inquisitor's nose, prickling her nose hairs. She sneezed, doing about as good a job of hiding it as Alastair had his burp. This might prove to be a problem, she reflected as she swiped surreptitiously at her nose. 

Cullen spared a mortified look at Alistair before burying his gauntleted fingers in his hair. "So you switched out a templar with lyrium issues with a Grey Warden with a drinking problem? How is that any better? At least I have a longer lifespan!"

Alistair snorted, swaying slightly in time with his wagging finger. "Now, now. I've seen more than one templar fall off the ramparts after a few weeks without the blue stuff. They go--" He whistled as he made a diving motion with his hand, followed by a raspberry. "Which is bad."

Josephine seemed as bemused as the rest of them. She flipped through her sheaf of papers, her eyes flicking back and forth as she read. "Ser--"

"No 'ser.' You're thinking of someone who has enough gold to buy Garbolg's Backcountry Reserve."

"Ah. S--Alistair." Josephine deftly corrected herself. "Alistair was a key member of the Hero of Fereldon's winning campaign during the last blight.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Hero? More like Zero of Fereldon. Lot of good it did me."

Cullen threw his hands in the air. Or, that is, he tried, but the joints of the gauntlet tangled in his already disheveled curls and he hissed as they stuck fast.

"Haven't you anything to say, Leliana?" Cullen demanded, wincing as he carefully removed the guantlet. 

She tilted her head and compressed her lips, giving Cassandra a thoughtful look. "Not yet."

Alistair gave the bottle he was holding a little shake beside his ear, listening. "Silence. I could use some more sound. I'll be at the tavern, making some liquor slosh and glasses clink."

The Inquisitor and her advisors watched as he staggered out of the war room. 

"Perhaps I should keep an eye on him," the Inquisitor said, hurrying after him. A sense of dark foreboding tailed her all the way out of the keep.


	2. Chapter 2

"This one--this one, I like!" roared Iron Bull. "He's nothing like the other Grey Wardens I've met." 

From the end of the bar, Blackwall harrumphed. 

Alistair crashed into the edge of the bar beside Blackwall. He probably meant to sidle, thought the Inquisitor, but that was impossible in his state. "That's right! Another Grey Warden. Hey, Blackwall--Blackwall, right?--do you ever get that thing?" Alistair spun his finger in a circle around the side of his head. "You know, the thing where your ears are ringing, but you're pretty sure it's darkspawn hissing, so you turn around, and nothing's there?" 

Blackwall's eyes flicked back and forth, and he was silent for too long before he said, "Yes." 

"Well, I don't!" Alistair clapped Blackwall on the back with enough force to visibly knock the breath out of him. He left Blackwall coughing and wheezing as he wandered back over to Bull, weaving around on unsteady legs, unable to walk in a straight line.   
Alistair miscalculated, veering away from Bull and right into a chair. He fell over it, knocking it to the floor, and bringing the chair beside it down, too, beginning a chain reaction of events which could only later be described as 'improbable' by those who witnessed it. 

It ended in everyone evacuating the burning tavern as the mages attempted to magic the flames into submission. The fire lit up the night better than a thousand torches ever would, licking the stone ramparts with flickering color. If not for the smell of burning wood, the Inquisitor might have been fooled into thinking it was day. 

"Oops," said Alistair. He removed a flask from inside his coat and took a swig, then held it out. "Anyone?" 

Bull shrugged and upended the flask into his mouth. "Finished it off for you." 

"I have a spare." Alistair unhooked a water skin from belt and uncapped it. The Inquisitor surmised that there was no water in it. 

"My hat was up there." Everyone jumped, having completely forgotten about Cole. 

The Inquisitor patted him on the shoulder. "The fire's nearly under control. I'm sure your hat is fine." 

"What's going on here?" Cassandra demanded. 

The Inquisitor sighed. Everyone was here. 

Cullen hurried over, too, in a state of dishabille, as the Orlesians would say. Unfortunately, now was not the time to admire the view. 

"This!" he said. "This is the--the--" Cullen visibly struggled to find a word, and finally went with "--imbecile you expect to lead our considerable forces to victory?" 

"I have some ideas for the renovations," said Alistair. "How would everyone like a slide to get down from one floor to another?" He offered the water skin to Cullen. "Drink?" 

Cullen leveled a look of abject disgust at Alistair. 

Through the smoke above came a shout. "What's that racket about?" Sera leaned out her open window and coughed. 

"Sera!" The Inquisitor started forward, but Cassandra held her back. "What are you still doing in there? The place is on fire!" 

Sera coughed again. "I'm not leaving my loot for looters. That's what they want." 

"There's no one in there to steal it," shouted Cassandra. "Just because you would, doesn't mean the rest of us--" 

"I've seen the way you look at these shinies. Got my eye on you. But not like that." 

"We're wasting time," said Cullen, trying to run his fingers through his hair and once again failing. "What's taking the mages so long to put out the fire?" 

Solas, who had arrived at some point in the prior few minutes, crossed his arms. "Oh, so now you appreciate the work mages do?" 

Cullen let out a strangled cry. "Mages, good. Templars, bad. Are you really going to debate this when one of your fellow elves is in peril?" 

Solas rolled his eyes, gathered his magic, and blasted the tavern with some sort of ice spell. It was over in a moment, leaving Sera with frost in her eyebrows and a stunned look on her face. Without another word, Solas took his leave. 

"So about those renovations," Alistair began, but stopped when a dozen angry eyes leveled looks at him. "We'll discuss it in the morning." 

The Inquisitor massaged her temples. This was a disaster.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's looking at you, Ksju.


End file.
